


Broken Glasses

by JMilz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Angst, Christmas Fluff, Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:48:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28213437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JMilz/pseuds/JMilz
Summary: A series of winter vignettes about Draco and Harry's unlikely romance. An example entry for the Harry Potter Fanfiction Club's 2020 Winter 12 Drabble Challenge.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 4
Collections: Harry Potter Fanfiction Club Presents: Christmas 2020





	1. Champagne/Ice

He liked ice in his champagne.

It was an egregious mistake in the circles of high society, the type of mistake that he wore everywhere he went. Draco watched in awe as the three cubes of ice clinked loudly about with every swirl, drawing the eyes of everyone he schmoozed, everyone he passed, and most notably, the two people he was there to impress.

When Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott announced their engagement, Draco took his opportunity to pull him into the hall.

"You can't be serious, Potter!"

"What?"

"Your champagne! It's an insult to the host, who just so _happens_ to be _my mother_."

He frowned. "How is it an insult?"

"Because . . . well, I'm not sure why, but it is!" Draco wrenched the toasting flute away from him. "Now I'm going to go to the toilet to dump this swill and you're going to go get a new glass. One _without_ ice."

"Fine. But you really ought to try it. It's better cold."

"Excuse me?"

"Try it. Try it with the ice. It's good, I swear."

Draco peeked around the corner. Everyone seemed preoccupied enough with Parkinson's ring, so just to appease Potter, just because it was _him_ , Draco took a small sip.

And from that day on, he took ice in _his_ champagne too.


	2. Potion/Gift

"What's this?"

He was frowning. It was the frown he made when he wasn't impressed by something. The frown Harry had been so hoping to avoid.

" _Well_ , it's that potion," Harry said, slowly. "The one the Apothecary has been advertising."

"The one that—" Draco faltered. "The one that will get rid of . . . _it_."

"Erm—yeah."

Draco nodded.

For what seemed like an age, he stared at the swirling green elixir, idly picking away at the glittering wrapping paper, fingering the cork before abandoning it once more. He was entranced—like a man under a spell.

Harry could barely stand it anymore.

"I mean, you don't have to use it _right now_ if you—"

Suddenly, Draco hurled the vial at the wall, leaving the salve to splatter across the crown molding and strip the sapphire paint along with it. He then balled his fists and marched out of the room.

He uttered not a word.


	3. Togetherness/Family

He was fussing about the house, the way he always did when company was coming. Draco never pinned him as the orderly sort, and he hadn't been for most of their life together, but apparently, good habits had rubbed off on him.

Draco, on the other hand, was drinking.

"Thought ice in the champagne insulted the host."

"It does, but this time, I'm insulting you, not my mother."

There was a knock at the door and Harry made a beeline for it. Hurriedly, Draco downed his glass and crunched the cold ice cubes, ashamed of his new preference.

"Harry," Narcissa lilted, "I see you haven't changed."

"Erm—thanks?"

"Oh, it wasn't a compliment, dear. And _Draco_! You're looking . . . _well-fed_. Surely, Harry here isn't ordering that awful Muggle takeaway again?"

Draco pecked both her cheeks. "Lovely to see you, Mother."

"Lovely to see you too, darling. It's been too long."

"It wouldn't be so long if we were welcome at the manor."

"Yes, well, you know how your father feels about your . . . _lifestyle_." She frowned and traced his jawline. "It really is a pity, you know. You would've sired a beautiful grandchild."

Harry suddenly seemed to be choking on one of the hors d'oeuvres.

"So is Father coming, then?"

"I'm afraid not."

And so they spent another Christmas together—just the three of them—along with the discomfort that laced the room.


	4. Toulon/Gold

A pile of gold. A thoughtless note. A reminder that Draco Malfoy was still Draco _bloody_ Malfoy.

_Potter —_

_I didn't want to wake you. My parents have informed me I'm expected to join them in France for the holidays. I'll be back on the 27th.  
_ _Please buy yourself something nice._

_DM_

Harry hadn't bought himself anything nice at all. Instead, he sat in the bedroom, picking away at stocking chocolate and waiting, waiting for Draco to come home.

The 27th finally came, and at nearly noon, Draco stepped inside and hung his scarf.

"France was miserable. The Malfoys really know how to put a damper on Toulon. First, my father brought up the . . . what's wrong with you?" 

"Oh, I don't know . . . maybe the fact that my boyfriend left me with a pile of gold and a note . . . on _Christmas_?"

Draco frowned. "Well, I figured you'd rather not spend it with my parents."

"So? I still wanted to spend it with _you_! And to not even give me a chance to say goodbye—"

"Honestly, Potter, I saved you a week with my family _and_ gave you a hundred Galleons for whatever you wanted. You'd think—"

"You can't replace your time with gold, Draco! You can't just buy me off like some . . . like some Slytherin _trollop_! Bloody hell, you haven't changed at all."

Harry seized his jacket from the rack and pushed past his blond counterpart.

"Potter, come on. Where are you going?"

"Away from _you_."


	5. Fingertips/Crackling

His wild black locks were everywhere.

Of course, they always were, but that night, they were remarkably unkempt. Draco had always found it endearing, yet he never would tell him as much. They were, after all, nothing serious.

"I have to get back to the manor."

"Oh."

Draco cocked an eyebrow, but he didn't stop buttoning his trousers. It was the first time Harry had ever protested him leaving after they frolicked in the bedsheets, and he wasn't sure what to make of it.

"What's your problem, Potter? Going soft for me, are you?"

 _"No,"_ Harry scowled.

"Sure. Well, don't worry. We can do this again soon." Draco winked at him and reached out to squeeze his hand.

That was when he felt it.

Harry's magic crackled against his, and suddenly, his locks were even more mussed than before.

He should've stayed that night. But he didn't.


	6. Celebrate/Tree

"I want a tree."

"Fine," Draco replied. Without even looking up from his newspaper, he flicked his wand and a great fir tree spurted forth in the corner. "There."

"No, I want a _real_ tree. One we have to go cut down and tie to the top of our car."

Draco made a face. "You mean . . . like _Muggles_?"

" _Yes_ , like Muggles. Come on, it'll be fun!"

"And what exactly do you plan on dragging it home with?" Draco asked. "We're missing this whole _car_ thing you mentioned."

"So we rent one."

"Look, I'm all for frivolous spending, but pay money to swing an axe and freeze to death? Yeah, no thanks." Draco hid behind his newspaper. "If you really want, I'll decorate the tree like a Muggle but that's _it_."

"Draco _, come on_ ," Harry whined. "I never got to do any of this stuff when I was a kid. The Dursleys took Dudley but they always left me behind."

With a heavy sigh, Draco put down his newspaper once more.

"You aren't the only one that had a terrible home life as a child, you know."

"Yet somehow, that card always works with you."

"Indeed it does . . . Go on then, grab your jacket."

Harry grinned. 


	7. Apparition/Travel

"We're too drunk to Apparate."

"We are _not_."

Draco narrowed his eyes. Harry was swaying back and forth, his eyelids shuttering and shooting back up with each step he took. He most certainly _was_ too drunk.

"You are."

"I'm _not_ ," Harry insisted. "Here, I'll show you."

"Harry, no—"

But it was too late. Harry had seized his hand and suddenly, they were spinning. Draco, in his inebriated state, wanted to vomit, yet before he could, he was shocked by pain so terrible he swallowed it instead.

"ARGH!"

They landed in a pile in their bedroom.

"See, I told you I could—Draco?"

Draco was cradling his foot on the floor, which was quickly collecting a puddle of blood. A slice of his boot was missing . . . along with his big toe.

"Potter, I warned you!" 

"Draco, I—I didn't think I—I've Apparated drunk so many times—"

"Well, didn't work this time, did it?" Draco moaned in agony. "Get the dittany and . . ." He sighed. "And Floo Granger."

"Hermione?" Harry asked, confusedly. "But you—"

"I know, I know. Just get her."

Harry did as he was told, and because of Hermione Granger, Draco's big toe was saved.


	8. Winter/Dreary

Winter was bleak.

For six months, Harry had been alone. He made a mistake, and Draco wasn't willing to forgive him for it, so now, with the holidays approaching, he was facing a lonely Christmas.

"Oh Harry, you will join us, won't you?" Molly begged.

"Yeah, maybe," Harry said, though he had no intention of joining the Weasleys at all.

He preferred to bask in his own misery. For the first time in nine years, he was going to spend Christmas alone, and if he had anything to say about it, he would be so drunk he couldn't think.

Maybe then, he could forget those grey eyes.

Maybe then, the world would be less dreary.


	9. Wine/Spice

Mulled wine tasted of Christmas.

It tasted of happiness.

It tasted of _Harry_.

Draco stared into the burgundy depths of his glass, waiting impatiently for the elves to finish the Christmas feast. He and Harry had been together for twelve years, and suddenly, they just . . . weren't.

Harry had committed the ultimate act of betrayal, yet somehow, Draco was the one feeling guilty for it.

It wasn't _fair_.

"Do you know who else is no longer involved?" Narcissa Malfoy purred, sitting in the armchair across from her son. When he didn't answer, she added, " _Astoria Greengrass._ Her husband died. Isn't that wonderful?"

"Yes, a joyous occasion for all," Draco muttered.

"Next week is Ardinius and Dienna's anniversary party, actually. If you came along, perhaps you and Astoria may find some time to get to know each other?"

Draco glared at her.

"Is there more wine?"

"Draco . . . you have to move on someday. You know that, don't you?"

"I _asked_ if there was more wine."


	10. Celebrity/Star

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

The cameras were flashing, the patrons were offering him drinks, and at the far end of the bar, he saw Draco Malfoy, sipping a glass of champagne.

There was no ice.

Malfoy had apparently seen him too, because he scoffed and immediately started piling Sickles onto the bar.

Harry wasn't sure what possessed him, but before he knew it, his feet were carrying him towards his ex-boyfriend. Despite the cameras, despite the fans, he was headed right towards the man that had wanted nothing more than for their life to be private.

Perhaps, it was his only shot.

"Malfoy."

"Potter."

"Is this seat taken?"

"No." Draco stood and pushed in his stool. "And neither is this one."

"Draco, come on."

The cameras followed him, and he followed Draco. He followed him past the shops and past the restaurants and then . . . Draco Disapparated.

"Smile for the _Prophet_!"

Harry wasn't smiling.


	11. Robes/Fleece

Fleece robes.

He had never heard of anything more ridiculous. Fleece was a Muggle material. It was inferior, it was cheap, it was . . . cozy.

Draco was staring at the hanging robes, shivering, pondering whether or not he could stand to wear them. It was nearly Christmas again, and he hadn't dared to wear them ever since the incident.

Perhaps, it had been long enough. Perhaps, he was moving on. Perhaps, he just missed Harry.

He groaned and slammed the closet door. More than two years later, he was still just as brokenhearted as he had been when he first discovered Harry's "little slipup."

The more Draco thought about it, the more he found he was slamming everything. Doors. Drawers. Cupboards. Nothing was safe from his rage, because he was aching, and everything else deserved to ache too.

How _dare_ Harry . . . do what he did?

Draco couldn't even bring himself to _think_ the word.

Furious, he pulled on his jacket. He was _finally_ going to give Harry Potter a piece of his mind.


	12. Glasses/Blizzard

There was a knock on the door.

Harry froze, because the only person he knew to use such an urgent knock was . . . well, it couldn't be _him_.

With a heavy sigh, he trudged across his grimy studio apartment.

"Draco?"

"Potter," he sneered, careless of the snowstorm surrounding him. "We need to—"

But before he could finish his sentence, Harry took a step forward and slipped on the ice in the doorframe. His glasses flew from his face, shattering into pieces that blended in all too well with the snow.

"Oh for Merlin's sake!"

As soon as Draco heaved him upward, Harry reached for his wand and murmured the repair spell.

"Fat chance. Not even magic can save those bloody things. Come on, then. Inside."

"But—"

"Do you actually live here? This is ghastly."

If Harry could see, he would've glared at him.

"I need new glasses. Draco—"

"The Muggles have shut everything down. No new glasses today."

"But I—"

 **"** Interestingly enough, this works in both of our favor," Draco interrupted. "You need a pair of eyes and I need some answers."

Harry groaned. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

"Unless you plan on running into walls until the snow melts, you really don't."

"Ugh. Fine. But be easy on me, will you?"

Draco scoffed.

"Come on, Potter. You know me better than that."

"Do I? You've been running away from me for two years."

When Draco finally spoke, his voice was but a whisper.

"So make me stop running."


End file.
